


"Sort" of Unfortunate

by Taupefox59



Series: Quantam Tollbooth [3]
Category: DCU - Comicverse, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comic), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-25 10:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taupefox59/pseuds/Taupefox59
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Timothy and Kon-El end up at School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.<br/>Dumbledore buys Kon a wand whilst Tim and the Sorting Hat have... significant misunderstandings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one is less of a drabble and distinctly more of a "Drabble that Got Away". It was super fun to write though. This is un-beta'd, if you catch anything, please let me know. Constructive criticism always appreciated!

The Phone Booth landed in a cold stone hallway and rattled both boys out.

“So. Any guesses where it's dumped us this time?” Tim asked, sounding typically droll.

“I'm hoping it's not Dracula.” Kon replied with a shrug.

“Ugh. Yeah.” Tim looked around the corridor, “Up the stairs?”

“Up is usually a good place to start.” Kon agreed. Tim took point as the pair began up the stairs, sticking to the shadows as they moved towards the center of the castle. The air temperature rose as they moved up the stairs. It seemed like all was going well until Tim's foot sunk into a step with an unfortunate sucking noise.

“Kon, hold up. I'm stuck.”

“What?”

“The stair. It's not solid. I've never seen a trap like this before.”

“Okay. So, I'll pull you out?”

Tim strained as silently as he could, trying to pull his foot out of the quagmire of the stair. “Yeah. I think you'll have to.”

Conner easirly leapt over his friend and the questionable stair. He grabbed the smaller teen around the waist and pulled gently. Nothing happened.

“Kon, just get me out.”

Conner paused, “You sure, man?”

“Yeah, I'll be fine, just pull.”

“Okay.” Kon readjusted his grip, and pulled. Tim came flying out of the stair. The momentum sent the two boys the rest of the way up the flight of stairs and straight into the suit of armour that waited at the top. They settled with an echoing, ear shaking clatter. The last of the ringing died out.

“Kon?”

“Yeah?”

“We should probably not stick around.” Tim said, with a pointed eyebrow at the mess of metal around them.

“Yeah...”

“So you'd have to get off of me then?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Conner gently levered himself out of the pile of armor and off his friend. Tim pulled himself up as well. Their movement caused a second round of clattering at their metal landing pad.

They looked around the hallway they now found themselves in.

“You go left, I'll go right?” Kon asked.

Tim nodded affirmation, “Meet back here in two hours. That should give us enough time to figure out what the hell is going on.”

“Sounds good. See you back here.”

They were just abut to go their separate ways when a shadow fell over them. The shadow was caused by a tall, pale man in a strange robe, a pointy hat and a long white beard.

“You two appear to be lost.” The man said in a kind voice, his blue eyes were twinkling behind half moon glasses.

“Uhh....”

“You should be in the Great Hall, enjoying the feast with everyone else. It would be such a shame for you to miss the Sorting Ceremony, it is truly a shining example of Hogwarts hospitality. We'd hate for any of our transfer students to miss that.”

Tim and Kon shared identicial looks of confusion before following the old man. He led them down the hallway, through a portrait, and down a twisting stair case (where he explained that some stairs have trick steps that don't like to be stepped on). Finally they reached a huge set of double doors which opened to reveal hundreds of children sitting at tables lit by floating candles. The most impressive thing was the cieling – or to be more exact, the lack thereof. The room seemed to be open to the sky, the dark clouds and moonlight creating an unearthly ambiance.

There was a line of young kids, they all looked to be from ten to twelve, by Tim's estimation. The attention of the room was focused on a higher dias at the far end of the room, where there was a child on a stool with a singularly beaten hat on her head. After a moment of relative silence the hat moved a bit and shouted “GRYFFINDOR!”, causing a quarter of the room to break into whoops of joy. The girl sat the hat back on the stool and was heartily welcomed at the table of shouting kids.

Tim and Conner shared another look of confusion.

A severe looking woman with a very long scroll stepped next to the stool and called out “Dozilek, Peter”. A boy from the line on the back of the wall ran forward to sit on the stool, and have the hat placed on his head.

Conner could tell that Tim had officially shifted into 'observation mode', trying to find as much information as he could by taking in the details around him. Neither of them were prepared for the next name that the woman called -

“Drake, Timothy!”

 

Tim stared in shock as his name echoed through the bizarre hall. “Kon...how...”

“I don't know man, but you might just want to...go with it?”

Tim's grace deserted him as he walked woodenly up to the stool. Kon knew that no one else in the hall would be able to tell; Tim could always perform as expected in public, but he was clearly rattled. Kon felt it too; how did these people know who they were? Kon had no illusions, if they knew Tim, they would know him as well. They were at a distinct disadvantage here. He pushed his musings aside and focused back in on Tim.

Tim sat stiffly on the wooden stool a the old beat up hat was placed on his head. The strange voice of the hat muttered in his ear. “Hmm. Dear boy. You're quite far from home aren't you...and simply _made_ of intelligence. Oh yes, Ravenclaw would suit you well, so very well. But...you have something else...Loyalty runs deep in you. Hmmm.”

Tim was descending into himself. This hat was in his head. He didn't know who these people were, or what they wanted, but this hat was learning things about him. They knew who he was, and this hat knew where he was from. He had to protect his secrets. He had to protect the secrets of his family. He drew up new walls with every breath, sinking deeper into the meditative state that would blank his mind completely. Heartbeat, breath, silence.

Conner knew something was wrong when Tim took control of his heartbeat. The situation got worse when it slowed. Ignoring everything except the need to protect his friend, Kon shot up to the stool, where he managed to catch Tim, just as the smaller boy fell from the stool. The beaten hat fell from his head and flopped onto the floor.

The population of the hall seemed to be in chaos. Kon ignored them. Tim's heartbeat was coma-slow but steady. It would take time to bring Tim out of his trance safely. The severe woman with the scroll approached slowly, but Kon snarled at her when she got within reach of Tim.

“What did you do to him?” Kon pulled in Tim's limp body, protecting him instinctively.

“I have never seen anything like this happen before. The woman looked pained. "I am terribly sorry, please, let us take him to the hospital wing.”

Kon's grip tightened at the thought that these people might take Tim anywhere away from him.

The situation was defused by the old man from earlier. He'd called himself somethng strange – bumbledoor?

“Minerva, I think perhaps our two exchange students would benefit from a more...private sorting. I shall escort them to Poppy, and get them settled while you continue the traditional ceremony here.” The woman – Minerva, apparently – nodded and stood, moving to address the crowd. 'Door-guy wisely kept his distance from Tim, allowing Kon to pick up his friend. With a nod Conner stood and began to follow Mumbledoor to the hospital wing.

 

It took three days of silence for Tim to come out of his self induced coma. Kon had spent the majority of his time in the hospital wing.

He'd picked up quite a few things during his vigil. Dumbledore had explained the magic of the sorting hat, sort of like an extreme, unbiased personality quiz. After a trip in a pensieve (which was walking in Dumbldore's thoughts. A little bit cool, but mostly a whole lot creepy) to see previous Sorting Ceremonies, Kon had been convinced to try on the hat for himself. It had declared him a Hufflepuff, after some debate (“ _You do not seek power, because you already have it. Slytherin would be a disaster for you. You are not unintelligent, but you do not thirst for knowledge. Not Ravenclaw. Gryffindor would suit well. You are willing to stand for what you feel is right in any situation. You are not afraid to fight your beliefs. You are more willing to fight to protect your friends though, I think. You are driven not to protect ideals, but to protect those who need protecting. Yes...I think Hufflepuff for you...”_ )

Dumbldore had aslo been quite shocked to find out that they had somehow managed to reach Hogwarts without wands. Kon had been dragged away from Tim one afternoon and brought to a place called Diagon Alley, where he'd been given robes, books and a wand. Dumbledore had paid for all of it with huge golden coins.

Buying a wand had been perhaps the most bizarre experience of Kon's life. He'd stood in a musty old shop for nearly half an hour, waving sticks in the air until the old man who ran the shop had gone to the backroom. The wand he'd brought out had felt right, from the instant Kon had picked it up. It seemed to hum happily in his hand, and it shot out warm winds (It felt like flying lazily above the farm on warm August nights), and delicate blue fireworks that like pop-rocks when the sparks fell on his skin. 18 3/4 inches of American Oak, with dragon heart string and unicorn tail. Kon would openly admit that he was officially kind of in love with a stick.

Kon had also taken a bit of an adventure back to the corridor where the phone booth had landed. Unsurprisingly, it had indeed disappeared. Tim hated when it did that. Kon was mostly okay with it, because it always seemed to come back when they needed it. It did make him a bit uneasy on occaision, but the phone booth hadn't let them down yet.

Tim had woken slowly, but Kon had was by his side the entire time. Tim didn't do post-unconciousness-confusion. He simply began absorbing the facts of the current situation and went with it. Finding himself in what appeared to be a medieval infirmary was strange. Having a bedside table covered with bottles, some of which were lightly smoking in various colors of the rainbow, was far stranger. Having Kon there was less strange, because Tim knew that whatever happened, they would be together (and the two of them had a pretty awesome track record).

“So,” Tim winced at the croaking noise that had come out of his throat in place of words. Kon offered him a goblet (an actual _goblet_ , what was this place?) of water, which Tim took gratefully. The water was cool and sweet. Tim knew to limit himself to small sips at first. After the liquid hit his dry throat, he tried again. “So,” much better “Medical Ward?”

“Yeah. You've been out for three days.”

“Hmm. I'm getting better at that.”

“At what?”

“Pulling myself out of that.”

“That's getting better?”

“Yes. It is. It used to take a full week for me to recover from mental attacks like that. What the hell was that hat?”

“Ahh. Yeah. It's not actually hostile.”

“It was trying to get into my head.”

“Yeah. That's kind of what it does. It sort of...judges your personality...so you can go to the part of the school where you'll fit in best.”

“So it psychically pre-sorts the cliques in the school?”

“...Not quite...but maybe sort of?”

“Okay...”

“The Phone Booth is gone.”

“Fuck.”

“You need to buy a wand.”

“...What?”

“Yeah.”


	2. "Sort of" Like Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kon & Tim enjoy their first broomstick-flying at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this when going through old documents. Un-beta'ed, etc.

 “So this is home?” Tim looked around the room. He couldn't quite keep from wincing as he took in the decor. There were four-poster beads hung with heavy curtains that were sure to block out light. At the base of every bed was a trunk for personal effects. Tim barely managed to suppress a shudder.

“It's just...so... _yellow._..”

“Well. Yeah. There are the other dormitories, but-”

“I'm really am quite happy to stick with you, thanks.”

“You sure you don't want another round with the hat?” Kon asked, smirking at his friend.

“I think I'll give the hat some more time to recover.” Tim replied, sardonic as ever.

“I, uh, I thought you might like the bed by the window. I took the one next to it, saved that one for you.” Kon pointed to the bed nearest to the wall, away from the doorway they were standing in.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Tim stated quietly, moving towards the bed. He pulled aside the yellow velvet curtains to sit on the bed, distinctly aware of his lack of belongings. “Classes have started for you, then?”

“Yeah. It's actually totally great.” Kon said, with honest enthusiasm.

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you're feeling alright? Conner Kent, excited for school? This might be the strangest thing we've seen yet.”

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. It's not like high school, Tim. It's magic! Today we're going flying!”

“Kon. You go flying all the time. It's kind of what you do.”

“No, Tim. I mean flying lessons on brooms. We get to take lessons for flying on brooms!” Kon's smile was wide and bright, prompting Tim's mouth to quirk up. “Dude. I bet you could even come to that one! You don't need a wand to get on a broom!”

“God. Kon. It's just so weird. I can't believe we landed somewhere where we'll be doing magic with wands. Even you have to admit that it's crazy.”

“Yeah. It's crazy, and fun!”

“Oookaay. Crazy and fun. Noted.”

 

 

The flight lesson took place across a vast meadow within a stadium of sorts. Kon and Tim were the only people over the age of twelve. Madame Hooch was the flight instructor. She handed out old brooms to everyone, and began to explain the basics of flying. Tim and Conner moved to the back of the group.

Away from the rest of the class, Tim was getting to know his broomstick. It was about a foot shorter than the bo staff he was used to, and the bristles shifted the weight. He spent a few moments, spinning it, getting a feel for the wood. Madame Hooch's voice carried across the flat of the field. She had reached the point of “It's all about _confidence_ ,” when Tim launched into the air. Kon launched at his heels, and the pair took off toward the castle.

“Come back here!” Madame Hooch called out “You will both lose two hundred points from Hufflepuff if you don't stop. I'll give you detention until Christmas!” The flight instructor sent a pained look up to the sky before turning to the rest of the class. “Class shall resume after I have escorted certain students back into the school.”

Tim flew up with a whoop, gaining altitude as the wind whipped his hair back. Tim hooked his ankles together and slid underneath the broom, like a rider with a cut sadle. He inched up until he had enough space to swing backwards and hang by his hands. Kon pulled up alongside Tim's theatrics.

“Having fun?” Kon called.

“It's like being on the high bar. I haven't been able to do a work-out like this in ages.” Tim pulled himself up until he was doing a handstand on the broom handle. He let his legs relax into an easy split before pulling them back straight. Slowly, he lifted one hand off the broom handle, leaving all of his weight on the one hand on the broom handle. Tim brought his other hand back to the broom handle, and swung down like the broom handle was a bar, using his momentum to come back up and re-mount the broom properly.

“Wanna race?”

“You're on!”

**Author's Note:**

> If you're on tumblr, feel free to come say hi! [ You can find me here! ](http://taupefox59.tumblr.com/)


End file.
